Mistletoe
by Gueniver
Summary: Spock and Christine attend the ship's Winter Party. Set in the Protesting Natures Universe. The standard mistletoe challenge response fic. Edited from the original - wow I was really addicted to commas!


Mistletoe

By Gueniver

Winter Solstice parties had become something of a tradition on Enterprise during her second 5-year mission. As a Vulcan, First Officer Spock would have preferred to spend his off duty time in private. But as the ship's second in command, he had become accustomed to attending such festivities as the unspoken part of his job.

This year, his reasons for not attending were compounded by the recent changes in his relationship with one of the ship's doctors. By mutual agreement, they had kept their relationship private. As the months progressed and their level of intimacy had increased it had become increasingly difficult, but neither was inclined to make the first move to change the situation yet.

This evening Spock had arrived with the Captain, Dr. McCoy met them at the long refreshment table, eggnog in hand.

"Well-well-well, so there you two are. It's about time!" He drawled slightly. Spock knew from experience that as the night went on, and the brandy flowed, he would slowly transform into The Perfect Southern Gentleman.

"Now Bones, just because there's a party doesn't mean ship's business stops. I was taking care of something. Mr. Spock is my witness." The captain dipped into one of the many bowls of holiday refreshment and served himself some wassail.

"I'll just bet! Well Spock?" The doctor turned to the Vulcan waiting for confirmation.

"The Captain did indeed receive an incoming message from Starfleet prior to our arrival. Although I believe it was the package from Earth that arrived after the message that actually delayed our arrival." Humor glinted in his eyes as he turned to the table to select a beverage as well. The Captain tried to look innocent but only succeeded in rousing the doctor's curiosity further.

Spock's attention was caught by sudden presence that he felt nearing. He turned to face the door and watched her enter.

Dr. Christine Chapel arrived in the company of her good friend Nyota Uhura. They were each striking women and in festive attire. There was no doubt that they lit up the room as they moved into it greeting friends as they came.

Spock turned slightly so as to appear to be listening to the doctor question the captain about the contents of the mysterious package, but his eyes were on Christine.

She was radiant. Her blue eyes fairly glowed like the sparkling jewels she wore around her neck. She wore a simple black velvet gown, one she promised he would appreciate. She was quite correct. It accented her feminine shape in an almost inappropriate fashion. He found that his face was warm at anticipation of touching that velvet later in private. His eyes traced down her well-muscled arms, thinking of yesterday's workout in the gym and how they had chosen to leave and continue in his quarters. She wore her hair loosely about her shoulders.

He had expressed an appreciation for it that way.

She laughed at something Uhura said, the music of it carried across the room to his ears. He paused a moment at the sound of it. He found himself contemplating once again the timing with which they would bring their relationship out into the open.

Perhaps it was something they should discuss again.

"Isn't that right, Spock?" The doctor chuckled, both men looked expectantly at the First Officer. He started slightly; he had been so lost in thought that he had missed the entire exchange.

"Alright Bones, that's enough. Leave Spock out of this. Why don't we see if we can't get some of these lovely ladies to dance?" The captain deftly distracted the doctor from Spock's obvious lapse and gestured to two women nearby.

Spock resisted the urge to sigh as they left him to waltz. He took a sip from his cup, noted that Christine moved slowly across the room and attempted to turn his attention away. She smiled easily at the compliments that her staff lavished on her. He could see her blushing though. She always did when complimented.

She stole a glance to him, her smile faltered slightly. The look in her eyes pleading for the night to be over. She too had been reluctant to come. It was something that everyone expected of her, however, so she had finally said yes to Uhura's unceasing requests.

She moved gracefully, he mused, as poised as royalty. She paused near Uhura perfectly framed by an archway adorned in festive ribbon and bells and _mistletoe_.

His eyes paused on the branch of greenery. His mind searched for the holiday tradition associated with it.

She looked up at that moment, as if she could hear his thoughts, their eyes met. She smiled sweetly, and his Vulcan nature was overcome by the very human desire to kiss her there in front of everyone. Uhura tapped her friend's shoulder, breaking the spell. She pointed up above them at the mistletoe.

Christine's eyes rose up to the archway to the bells, the bows and the greenery. Her eyes finally found the small branch.

At that moment she felt a familiar sensation wash over her. She had only ever experienced it in the privacy of her quarters. She gasped at the intensity of it, felt her knees get weak and her cheeks flush. It only lasted a moment, but the lingering sensations of pleasure held a promise of more later that evening.

She lowered her gaze from the mistletoe to her lover. His eyes were closed to the world, his attention turned instead to his heart's desire.

When he finally slowly opened his eyes, he was met by the sight of her crossing the room to him. She tried to look cool. Eagerness in her eyes belied the fact that she was fighting the urge to rush to him.

She came at last to within a few feet.

"Good Evening Mr. Spock." Her voice was low and full with seduction. She smiled amicably, but her eyes smoldered for him.

"Dr. Chapel, are you enjoying the festivities?" He was far too practiced at concealing his emotions, but Christine could still feel the warmth of his mind in hers.

She stepped beyond him to the refreshments and reached for the wassail. Lowering her head she whispered, "What was **that**?"

She raised her eyes to meet his.

He paused a moment as if thinking. His eyes smiled and he raised his cup to his lips.

In a voice meant for her ears only he replied, "You _were_ standing under the mistletoe."


End file.
